


The First Year Incident

by swanqueenfic13



Series: The Alpha [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter Next Generation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 21:58:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5391842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanqueenfic13/pseuds/swanqueenfic13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A companion piece to my story "The Alpha Letters". It can be read on its own as a one shot, but it makes more sense when read with the other story.</p><p>"I should never have overslept. I should have been there with him. Had I been with him, this might never have happened. What happened next was all my fault, and I’ll never forgive myself for it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Year Incident

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Alpha Letters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878538) by [swanqueenfic13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanqueenfic13/pseuds/swanqueenfic13). 



**The First Year Incident**

****  
  
  


“Well, will I see you in the morning, Scorpius?” I ask him, suddenly shy. He looks down at me and smiles.

“Of course. I’m beat, so I’m going to bed now. Um, see you in the morning,” he said. I waved and started up the stairs. I was about halfway up when I heard him call out.

“Yeah Scorp?” I asked, jumping back down a few steps to hear him.

“Thanks for helping me out back there, you know, with Roger and the knocker,” he said quietly. I smiled down at him. The Sorting Hat’s words reverberated in my mind. _Loyalty spilling out the ears, that’s you. But only for your friends._

“That’s what friends are for,” I told him. He smiled broadly at me.

“Yeah, friends. Night,” he said again. I smiled one more time as I turned and headed back up to my dormitory.

 

He was snoring when I found him.

Not a loud, chainsaws-cutting-down-a-forest kind of snore, but a soft little snore, almost like he was vibrating his lips in his sleep. He had curled himself up in one of the armchairs near the bookshelves, a blanket pulled over himself. Only his toes dangled off the edge of the seat; the rest of him was curled up in a tight little ball. I prodded him gently in the shoulder. His eyes opened slowly.

“What happened?” he asked blearily, blinking and rubbing his eyes.

“What are you doing down here?” I asked. He yawned once and blinked, as if he only just realized I was there.

“I must have fallen asleep while I was reading last night. These books are fascinating!” He said. There was a slight crinkle in his brow, little more than an inch. I looked around the floor and narrowed my eyes at him.

“Don’t insult my intelligence by lying to me. There are no books anywhere near you on the floor, or a table. And the shelves don’t look like they’ve been touched.” He had the decency to look guilty. “Now, what were you really doing down here?” I asked again.

“Sleeping. It seems my roommates don’t really want to sleep with a Malfoy. I figured I might as well just sleep down here,” he said quietly, staring at my feet.

“They kicked you out?” I asked incredulously. I thought for a moment about the way my roommates and I had introduced ourselves last night. We weren’t all immediate best friends, but I knew their names and we all talked for a while.

“No, but they didn’t have to. I could tell they didn’t want to be anywhere near me.” He shifted uncomfortably. “None of them spoke to me, and some kept shooting me dirty looks. I guess they must have heard of my father. And for those who hadn’t, I bet Roger filled them in.” My heart ached looking at him. Scorpius stared determinedly at the floor, glaring as if it had personally wronged him.

“Scorpius, maybe you should just talk to them. Start a dialogue, or something. Explain that even though your family has done bad things, you haven’t,” I told him. He snorted.

“Yeah, like that will work. ‘Oh hey guys, I know my parents are kind of evil and were the enemies in the last two wars but I’m not like that! Just because they raised me means nothing!’ Like that’ll work.”

“Scorpius, come on, just try it. Maybe it’ll at least get rid of the giant elephant in the room,” I begged. He shrugged.

“I don’t really want to talk about this anymore.” I considered pressing the issue further, but one look into his eyes told me that it wasn’t a good idea.

“Fine. Do you have a nickname?” He raised both eyebrows. “Oh come on, you must know your name is a bit of a mouthful. I just need something shorter to call you.” He grinned cheekily.

“Nah, my folks aren’t really nickname people. If you think of a good one, I wouldn’t be averse to it.” I thought for a moment.

“Scorpion, Scor, Scorp, Scorps, Scorpy and, um, I think that’s all I got.” He let out one short laugh.

“Scorp works,” he said with a grin. He cocked his head to the side. “Why are you awake so early? It isn’t even dawn yet,” he asked. I frowned, tilting my head to the side, allowing the loose strands of hair to fall into my face.

“Didn’t realize the time I guess,” I lied.

“Don’t insult my intelligence by lying to me,” he said. I flushed upon realizing he was parroting me.

“Fine, I guess I couldn’t sleep. I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep.” This, at least, wasn’t a lie. But, no matter what, I would not tell Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy why I couldn’t sleep.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”

“I guess I missed home a little bit. At home, my mum’s cat Crookshanks, well actually he’s part kneazle so he’s, like, ancient, always slept on my bed. I guess I just missed waking up to him there.” Darnit!

“Can’t you bring a pet?” His eyes were wide, and I burned with shame seeing the pity in his eyes.

“My neighbor’s cat had kittens a few weeks ago, and Mum said I could have one but they weren’t old enough before we had to go to Hogwarts. I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this,” I said all in one breath. He blinked once. Twice. He opened his mouth, appearing hurt. Realizing I had been rude, I cut him off. “Not like, I don’t understand why I’m telling you this specifically, more like why am I being so open. More like, why am I experiencing such foot-in-mouth syndrome? Why can’t I stop talking?” Finally I closed my mouth, letting my hair fall in front of my face again. He blinked again, then laughed hysterically.

“What?” I demand. “What’s so bloody funny?”

“You are!”

“Well, I know I’m hilarious but you’re going to wake up the whole entire House. See how much they like you then,” I elbowed him sharply.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, still smiling. We sat comfortably in silence, watching the fire crackle until it was time to go to breakfast.

 

That first fortnight passed in a blur. I must have gotten lost at least three times a day, missing the staircases, taking a wrong turn as they switched and ending up in the dungeon rather than the entrance hall. My classes progressed far too slowly for my liking; though the theory behind magic was fascinating, I desperately wanted to do things, not talk about them. One of the best parts of my days was hanging out with Scorpius, and getting to know our other first years. Over time, Scorpius’ roommates stopped being so wary of him, and he started sleeping in his dormitory again.

One day, after Professor Vastra had berated us for being late to Charms, for the _third_ _time_ that week, no less, we made a pact, me and Scorpius. We made a pact not to get lost in this bloody maze of a school anymore, so we set about trying to map every corridor, every passage, and every staircase. It was a daunting task, so we started early every Saturday morning.

One morning, I woke up late. Figuring Scorpius must have started without me, I ran up towards the library, where we had left off with our map. I should never have overslept. I should have been there with him. Had I been with him, this might never have happened. What happened next was all my fault, and I’ll never forgive myself for it.

 

I was around the corner from the library when I heard it.

At first, I flushed, thinking I had stumbled on some older students’ early morning tryst. I heard grunts, and moans, and whimpers. I started to back away, not wanting to get in the middle of that, when I noticed the flashes of light around the corner. Upon listening closer, I hear the noises are not as… happy as I thought they were; they sound more like grunts of pain, moans of agony, and whimpers for mercy. Hesitantly, I poke my head around the corner.

When I see them, I’m frozen in shock.

Roger McKinnon, our Seventh Year Prefect, stands in the middle of an otherwise empty corridor. Splayed out on the ground in front of him is Scorpius, though it takes a moment to identify him beneath the tangled mess of clothing and blood flowing freely from his body. Roger’s eyes were frenzied, and I watched him lean down, a glint of metal clutched between his fingers. He jabs at Scorpius and he groans. I watch as the puddle of blood around him steadily grows.

“Rotten to the core, all of you,” Roger mutters, stabbing again. “You think your blood is so _pure_? Well, look at how pure it is smeared on the floor of the castle.”

“ _Please_ ,” I hear Scorpius whimper. I shouldn’t have been able to hear it; I was too far away, and it was so quiet, like the sound he made when he exhaled.

“That’s what my grandparents said when your grandparents and their _death eater friends_ killed them.” Roger stands, taking a step back, and he points his wand at Scorpius. I watch him set his jaw as he growls, “ _crucio_.”

I will never forget the sounds of Scorpius screaming. It seems to reverberate off the walls, off my ears, around my skull. It bounces around, echoing and growing deafeningly loud. I watch for a moment, paralyzed with fear, sick to my stomach, as Scorpius convulses on the ground, enveloped in the pulsating red and blue flashes of light. Afterwards, I won’t recall what made me do it; all I knew was that I had to make that sound stop. I had to help him.

Without thinking, I rush forward, standing in front of Scorpius. Immediately, I feel the curse hit me. There is no true way to describe the exact pain. The word ‘pain’ couldn’t even begin to cover the experience, actually. It transcended pain, bringing the feeling about to a whole new level I had never even knew existed. The only explanation that can even come close to describing what it feels like is that it’s like having white hot blades driven into my flesh, over and over again, without end. There are a thousand blades, a thousand hands pushing them into me. It is everywhere, and I cannot escape it. If there is a Hell, this must certainly be it because I cannot imagine anything worse.

As quickly as it began, it ends, and I’m left gasping for breath on the floor, unaware I had even fallen.

“No, Rose, you weren’t supposed to be here,” Roger hisses at me. “You were supposed to be sleeping.”

“Roger,” I wheeze. “Roger, don’t do this. He’s… Please, let me help him,” I beg, trying to prop myself up on my elbows.

“You can’t help him Rose! He’s a villain, he’s a Malfoy! I know you’re a hero, and you want to save everyone, but you can’t! He’s a villain, and villains don’t deserve happy endings,” Roger whispers to me, rambling.

“Roger… He’s not… not his grandparents,” I gasp, parroting what Albus had told me on the train that first day. “Don’t punish him… for their… mistakes.”

“Mistakes?” Roger shouts. “Torture, murder, and consorting with evil were _mistakes_? They were heinous acts that deserve to be punished!”

“Not a bad person,” I mumble, too tired to keep speaking. I struggle to keep my eyes open, laying my head on the floor. I am distinctly aware that Scorpius’ blood is soaking into my clothes; if I don’t get him help very soon, he’ll probably die. I will _not_ allow that to happen. With the last of my strength, I reach out to him, willing him the strength to hold out just a little while longer. Surely our screams must have woken a few of the nearby portraits (of course this had to be the one corridor with no portraits at all adorning the walls, but I screamed loud enough to reach the adjacent halls, right?). As soon as I touch him, I feel a pulse of energy leave my body, and Scorpius groans in pain. But that’s good. A groan means he’s alive.

“He’s corrupted you,” Roger hisses, reminding me he’s still there, still pointing his knife and wand at us, unsure which to use. “His darkness has tainted your light. He’s turned you into a villain, like him! No! You’re one of them now!” His shrieks are starting to feel less and less… sane, like he’s descending even further into madness. Suddenly, he deadpans, looking at me. “Now, you both have to be punished.” He raises his wand, and I’m back in Hell. It feels like an eternity before it ends, and it has taken every last ounce of strength to keep my eyes open. I look over to see adults, tall smudges, really, coming towards us. My head is spinning and my vision is blurry, but I force myself to turn and look at Scorpius. I grab for his hand, slick with his blood. When our hands meet, the pulse of energy, the last I have, leaves me again, and all I can see is the darkness.

 

Two days.

I was only in the hospital wing for two days, but it felt like an eternity. It could be due to the fact that there was no potion or spell that could heal the damage done by a cruciatus curse. Or it could be due to the fact that I was _never_. _alone_. Seriously, between my parents, two sets of grandparents, my brother, my aunts and uncles, and hordes of cousins, my family was a constant presence, even when visitor hours were technically over. And then of course, there were friends and strangers from school who all wanted to check in on me. It was like I never had a moment to _breathe_ , something I had wanted to do ever since I saw Scorpius lying on the floor. It was like I could never breathe, and the constant crowd was suffocating me.

I later noticed that Scorpius had never had any visitors besides his parents, who sat dutifully by his bedside every day. They spoke quietly, an interesting comparison to my own deafening horde of visitors. Mr. Malfoy was usually reading a newspaper, sometimes aloud to his wife and son, other times to himself, as he underlined and circled things he must have deemed important. Mrs. Malfoy always held her son’s hand, even when Madame Pomfrey was checking on his injuries, and they were numerous.

But at least I was conscious. From the moment I awoke in the hospital wing, he had been silent. His eyes were open, and he responded monosyllabically when spoken to, but it’s clear he wasn’t completely there. He often had night terrors, waking me with his screams and thrashing that I could see even across the hospital wing, like I was. For those two nights I was there, I would go over to him and hold his hand until Madame Pomfrey gave him a sleeping potion to let him rest. When I was released, I was all too aware that he would be left alone.

So I started to visit him. I’d bring him his classwork, talk him through the lessons we’d had that day. I’d talk to him about my day, and told him what James had showed me about the Marauder’s Map. I laughed bitterly when I told him someone had already made a map of Hogwarts, a better map than we could ever make. Had we only known that before this all started… I told him about how close I had become with Holly, my roommate, and how they would get along. I’d leave sweets by his bedside, and the next morning, they’d always be gone.

I talked to his parents, became quite close with Draco and Astoria, as they insisted on me calling them (“You’ve saved our son. I think we can skip the formalities, dear,” Mrs. Malfoy had whispered one afternoon). I asked them about his night terrors, and they told me they were worse, according to Madame Pomfrey. That was when I borrowed James’ cloak (or rather, Uncle Harry’s cloak that James had knicked at the beginning of the year) to sneak into the hospital wing at night. For the entire time he was in the hospital wing, I visited him and soothed his night terrors.

I don’t know when it was that he started responding, and me telling him about my day became a conversation about his boredom. I don’t know when he first asked a clarifying question on the notes I had been reciting. I don’t know when he first asked about Holly. But Madame Pomfrey noticed, because one afternoon, she interrupted our discussion on Quidditch tryouts to tell us he was being released in the morning.

I got permission from our Head of House to skip first lesson the next day, to take Scorpius to the library and get him caught up on some of the practical lessons. We were walking down the hallway, laughing, until we came to The Spot. The Spot is where I found Scorpius, lying unconscious on the floor. He stands there, frozen for a moment as he stares at It. I know that Filch scrubbed all the blood off the floor, and Flitwick personally went back, scrubbing it with magic to make sure everything was gone, but I feel like I can still see it.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you,” he whispered quietly. “I know my parents did, multiple times a day, actually. But I never did. So, uh, thank you, Rose.” I grabbed his hand, and felt a pulse of energy, like I remembered feeling when it happened. But instead of draining me and making me tired, it felt like I was more awake, more alert, stronger. I didn’t say anything, just smiled at him.

“What are friends for?” I reply. There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and surviving the torture of a mutinous, psychotic seventh year is one of them.


End file.
